by Kat T. Masen
“Journalism. I write pieces for a few magazines and occasionally some of the well-known newspapers, depends on what the trend is at the time.”
The waitress returns, placing our beverages on the table, then leaves quickly.
“And you?”
“Family law,” I reply, wrapping my hands around the hot cup in front of me.
“I didn’t peg you for a lawyer but admire your tenacity.” Bringing the small glass toward his lips, he drinks the espresso in almost one go. “Tell me how you became a lawyer? Is there a reason behind it? And where did you study?”
This question isn’t one I haven’t been asked before. Truth be told, I’ve explained it more than I can count, nailed the story to a tee, leaving out various components which are deemed unnecessary to relive, especially to a stranger.
I begin to explain to him how it all started, and how my childhood felt like a turbulent rollercoaster ride from my mother’s repeated absences until she left for good, serving my father with divorce papers.
“Explains why you chose family law,” Julian says, sympathetically.
“I’d seen the worst side of them come out. They didn’t think I could understand their adult conversations, but I knew what was going on.”
“Then Yale, impressive and hard to get into?”
“Says the Harvard graduate,” I tease, welcoming the change of topic. Julian raises his brow, watching curiously until I realize I gave away my secret. “Fine, I may have stalked your Facebook profile.”
His soft chuckles ease my embarrassment. Raising my cup toward my lips, I take another sip, relishing in the caffeine fix my body so desperately needs.
“What can I say? I’m a woman of many talents,” I gloat with a smile.
We both laugh, and though the light-hearted banter is a refreshing change, I push away the feelings which crawl their way to the surface every time my mind wanders to a time in my past where darkness prevailed, and nothing, absolutely nothing, could take away the pain which had consumed me.
I clear my throat, hoping Julian doesn’t notice my change in demeanor.
“I met my good friend, Nicole, or Nikki as I call her, at Yale. We were both studying law, and after years of working for some awful employers, we took the plunge and opened Mason & Romano, a boutique law firm.”
“That’s quite some risk and at such a young age.”
“Yes, I know. I studied nonstop. It’s all I did for pretty much most of my twenties,” I tell him, reflecting on the long hours with my eyes on textbooks which led to compromised eyesight and having to wear glasses when I read. “Nikki and her husband were raising a young child. The juggling act of parenthood and thriving careers was harder than each of them expected.”
I go on to tell Julian about the decision to move to the city. Rocky was fortunate to have had a contact in the media industry and got a job almost immediately as a sports commentator. He can talk all day about sports, something I’ve now grown accustomed to.
Nikki and I both found jobs at separate firms. The first year was grueling, and I had questioned my decision several times. But somewhere along the way, I realized I was making a difference. I was passionate about working in law and loved my job, except for my seedy boss. I ignored his inappropriate comments about my attire and the way he said my hair smelled good when I walked past him. It was all kinds of wrong, and it made me uncomfortable.
“Fortunately enough, a solution presented itself late one Sunday afternoon while hanging in the playground. It came from Nikki at her wits end juggling motherhood,” I tell him, reliving the memory.
“Will called his nanny Mommy the other day,” Nikki spoke softly as she watched Will play in the sandpit with the other children. “Charlie, I can’t do this anymore, work twelve-hour days and never see my son.”
“We opened with a small client base, and as we grew, we both hired personal assistants— Eric and Emma. Business is booming. We even hired another attorney, Tate, and extra interns to run the office.”
“Quite an amazing journey,” he praises. “I can tell you’re passionate about what you do.”
Julian has this face that instantly calms you. Throughout telling my story, I felt my heart racing at times. But just looking into his eyes, everything I’d been holding on to which I hadn’t realized, slowly began to ease. He listens attentively, staring with an inquisitive gaze. A true gentleman unlike some of the jerks I dated who would just stare at my chest while licking their lips.
“I didn’t want to end up like my mother… miserable with this unwarranted chip on her shoulder, stuck in a small town making hot tamales every day. I was out to prove a point.”
“We have a lot in common. I, too, was always trying to prove a point. And well, here I am with the most gorgeous woman in Manhattan.”
I smile and touch his hand with ease. This dating thing isn’t so bad, not when the man is as handsome as Julian Baker.
Quickly glancing at my phone, I notice the time. With a disappointed smile, I finish the last of my latte. I don’t want to end this quick date of ours, and unlike anything I have ever done before, I muster up all my confidence to ask for a second date. “So, dinner. My place? I can make a mean tamale,” I half-joke.
The corner of Julian’s mouth curves upward into a cocky grin before he bites down, teasing me softly. “Tonight?”
“Wow, um… tonight.” I mentally run through my workload again. The old Charlie would’ve kindly tried to reschedule. Work has always come first, but I’m sick of the rules I created for myself.
Out with the old, in with the new.
“You know what? Yes. Tonight will be perfect.”
“Your place or mine?”
“How about mine?” I suggest selfishly, knowing I can cram in a few more hours of work after he leaves. “I’ll text you my address.
“Perfect.” Julian looks at his watch but is quick to apologize for being rude.
“No, I get it. I’ve got a ton of work to do, too.”
I stand at the same time as Julian. His hands wrap around my waist, and gently, he grazes his thumb down my cheek and across my bottom lip. My pulse begins to race again toward my hammering heart echoing beneath my chest. My gaze shifts away from his deep stare and toward his lips, desperate to taste them on my own. Slowly, Julian leans down, brushing his lips against mine as I close my eyes and relish in the warm feeling consuming me.
Pulling away in an agonizing pace, we both catch our breaths.
For the longest time, I didn’t think it was possible to feel all the things Julian has made me feel with just one kiss. Perhaps I’m crazy, allowing myself to fall prey to his charm.
But I am no longer eighteen.
No longer a foolish kid.
“Tonight?”
“Tonight,” I whisper back, tilting my head to kiss him one more time.
CHARLIE
The knock on my door echoes through the apartment.
Wiping my hands on my apron, I walk toward the door and open it to a very dashing Julian dressed in a pair of navy chinos and a white buttoned-collared shirt. With a grin smothering his already handsome face, I struggle to hold back my desire to touch and explore his body in ways my single-woman mind has imagined the past few nights.
“Well, hello, gorgeous.”
Julian hands me a bottle of wine, making it a perfect addition to the meal I’ve prepared. Taking it from him, I grab his hand and close the door behind him.
“So, this is your place?” He scans the living room, taking it all in with a curious smile. “Very nice.”
“By nice, do you mean small?”
“It’s Manhattan. In perspective to other apartments I’ve seen, it’s a comfortable size.”
“Would you like a tour? Though, I’m warning you, it’ll take zero-point-two seconds.”
“Yes, but first…” He takes the bottle from my hand, placing it on the coffee table. Sliding his hands around my back, he pulls me in, bringing his hand back up to my chin. With a qui
ckening breath, he drags my face to be closer to his, so close I can almost taste him. Tilting my head slightly, I painfully wait for him to kiss me. Our breaths mingling together in such an intimate space, heighten our desperate need to kiss.
I wrap my hands around the back of his neck, coercing him to kiss me deeply. Our lips touch, barely, and with lust driving our bodies, I press harder against his mouth, releasing the long-awaited moan which has built up inside of me.
Julian instantly reacts, tightening his grip on my ass as his body presses against mine. My mind, shallow in its thoughts, immediately notices his rock hard cock pressing between us.
Pulling away, I attempt to catch my breath. “Did you still want the tour?”
“Yes,” he murmurs, placing his lips on mine again. “Lead the way, Miss Mason.”
Coco purrs on the couch, desperate for attention.
“This is Coco.”
“A ragdoll?” He gently pats Coco’s fur and, of course, she’s lapping up all the attention. “We had one growing up.”
I grab the bottle of wine and his hand as well, then show him the two bedrooms, bathroom, the kitchen and dining area at a quick pace. The apartment, purchased twelve months ago, is a true testament to my hard work over the last few years. I love Manhattan and don’t expect to move anywhere else anytime soon.
“It’s a beautiful place you’ve made for yourself,” he compliments before his eyes gravitate toward the countertop where I have attempted to make tamales. “This all smells delicious.”
“If there’s one thing my mom taught me well, it’s this. Shall we eat?”
We sit at the small dining table inside the cozy kitchen. A candle is burning between us—some romantic scent Eric gave me to bring love into my life. He’s a believer of all things kooky, strikingly similar to my mom who believes in spirits, the universe, and stars aligning if you’re lucky enough.
We speak about work, mainly Julian and his passion for journalism. He’s a very cultured man, having traveled to the remotest of countries to maintain the integrity of the pieces he writes. I love the fire in his soul when he speaks with such conviction. I could listen to him for hours, and rarely, has anyone captured my attention in this way.
“I love how passionate you are. You’re a rare breed, Mr. Baker.”
“I could say the same for you.” He grins, lifting the glass toward his lips as he finishes the remnants of his wine. “You graduated from Yale, own a business, can cook mean tamales, and…”
He pauses, parting his lips while staring into my eyes.
Leaning forward, I rest my elbows on the table, inching closer to him while we kiss gently.
Pulling back, only just, I croon, “And?”
“Your kiss makes me want to strip you down to nothing right here, right now.”
I can feel my heart beat every single pound in my chest. Biting the corner of my lip, I stare into his eyes.
How can it be, a man so beautiful and pure, is single in a city where millions of women roam the streets looking for someone as perfect as him?
And he’s here, with me.
I don’t want to take any more chances, and throwing every single bit of caution that I’ve held onto for the last eight years, I throw it all out the window in a split second.
My hands move toward his collar, guiding him back to me for a passionate kiss. Our tongues battle feverishly, moans escaping in tiny breaths as we juggle to stand. Julian lifts me, prompting my legs to wrap around his waist. Our kisses continue as he walks us down the hall and toward my bedroom.
With the light off, yet the glow from the living area illuminating our faces enough to see, he places me on the bed and hovers above me.
The weight of his desire is staring back at me in an intense gaze.
There’s a magnetic force between us, one pulling me so fast that I’m unable to stop and think. Everything I can have possibly imagined in a man who can please my unconventional world is standing over me unbuttoning his shirt. Bare-chested, with a shirt thrown carelessly to the ground, I admire the most perfectly sculpted chest before me. Unable to control my urges, my hand grates his abs, stopping just shy of his belt buckle.
“Do you know how beautiful you look beneath me, gorgeous?”
I love the way he calls me gorgeous, sounds almost like I belong to him and no one else.
You don’t belong to anyone else.
You never did.
Shaking my head, I drown out the irrelevant noise and undo his belt, yanking his zipper down.
Julian drops his body forward, hands gripping my face. His lips press firmly against mine, desperately tasting every inch of my mouth. Hard and forcefully, his tongue rolls against mine, sending a stream of sensations to every part of my body and making me ache everywhere for him.
My hands move to the back of his head, clutching his hair in my fists as we fight to get closer to one another.
I pull away, out of breath. “Julian… is this too soon?”
He doesn’t say a word but rather tries to show me in his actions. In a slow, agonizing pace, he unbuttons my dress, removing the straps over my shoulders as I lay beneath him. With only my black lace bra and panties remaining, my chest begins to rise and fall rapidly, waiting in anticipation for him to make his next move.
The desire in his eyes, the raw, animalistic hunger, is staring back at me. God, I want to combust lying here as I stare back at this sexy man, a man who has walked into my life at the perfect time.
I sit up, pulling him closer to me as he leans down and places his mouth on mine, again. Every kiss becomes harder, more aggressive, and demanding. He wants to own me now, here in this moment. He commands me with his eyes to lay there and watch him pleasure me like no other man has before.
I crumple beneath his touch. Every sordid lick and caress of my heated skin causes me to moan louder. Julian breathes my name, each syllable dragging against his lips with a raw growl that lingers as he kisses the sweet spot between my thighs.
Slowly, he pulls down my panties and runs his nose along my pubic bone, and my eyes flutter as a deep moan escapes my lips. Has it been this long? I can’t trust myself to last much longer, deprived of a man’s touch.
I wait with bated breath, anticipating his next move, his next touch. Julian lays down on the bed, rolling me to the side and positioning himself behind me, grazing his palms against my backside and tracing the contours like a map causing me to moan in delight.
Impatiently, I push back and grind myself against him. Julian is hard, so rock-hard that I’m scared he’ll break me. I’m coming undone, desperate to have him inside me.
I turn around, so our bodies are facing, owning his lips and begging him to enter me. The clasp of my bra unravels, and his eyes widen as my breasts are exposed.
“Charlie, the first moment I saw you, I knew I had to have you. I was watching you in your cute tights and perky little ass trying to work the machine. These beautiful tits of yours were bouncing. I was ready to take you right there.”
My heavy breathing becomes a laugh. “You noticed that? I wore the wrong bra that day.”
He responds with a sly grin, then buries his head between my breasts before circling his tongue around my nipple.
My back arches, the sensation so unbearable I’m ready just to jump him myself.
“Of course, I noticed you.” He breathes warmth against my skin. “You’re so goddamn sexy. The guys in the locker room were having their own discussions on how to get you into bed.”
“Really? And there I was thinking I looked all awkward trying to work a machine.”
“Tell me…” he questions with a smirk, “… are you ready for me?”
I nod, in love with the way his eyes speak more than his words. He focuses his attention back on my lips, kissing my mouth with urgency and leaving me without a single breath to catch. My nails claw across his back, which I’m sure are leaving marks.
Propping himself up on his knees, he removes his belt entirely and lowers
his pants, exposing himself. I’m in awe of the sight of his beautiful body and the realization of how much I want him. Neither one of us cares to wait, made clear as we both shift, so he can easily enter me.
I gently warn him to hold that thought, opening the drawer in my nightstand and fumbling amongst the random junk. The foil packet is squished in the corner. I pull it out, handing it to him, scolding myself for only remembering now to be safe.
Running my hands along his forearm, I relish the moment as he rolls it on. It doesn’t take him long, his body commanding my full presence once again. Slowly, he enters me as I gasp at the unfamiliarity. I’m begging my body to hold on and last just a few minutes longer as he watches himself move in and out, biting his lip while spreading my legs enough to cause me to wince in delightful pain. This man wants only me at this moment, and I’ll do every damn thing in my power to please him.
Just the thought of it has me on edge. I latch onto the pillow behind me. My blood is pumping hard, and every single part of me tingles in a mad delight as my body combusts beneath him. I call his name repeatedly, loudly, wishing this moment not to end.
Julian has a desperate need to control the moment, holding back his impending orgasm until it finally gets the better of him. The grip of his hands is tight against my waist as his body slams into me until his moans slow, and his hips follow suit.
He falls beside me, both of us out of breath and reeling from what’s just happened. I turn to face him. I don’t care anymore. In just forty-eight hours my life has changed in ways I never imagined.
Unable to hide my grin, I challenge him, “So, what now? You know I’m off to Hawaii this weekend, and I’ll be gone for five days.”
“Five days?” He climbs on top of me, burying his head into the crook of my neck. “Well, I guess we’ve got a lot of ground to make up, Miss Mason.”
I squeal as he kisses a sensitive spot behind my ears, and squiggling beneath his body, I welcome round two with open arms.
LEX
I slowly open my eyes and take in my surroundings.